Pushed Too Far
by KazeHayate
Summary: People constantly write stories where Harry holds back. What if he didn't? What if he let his anger loose? One-Shot H/HR. WARNING: Not for the faint of heart. You have been warned.


Disclaimer: blah blah blah proprieties all owned by Rowling blah blah blah. Cue the Intro already!

Here's a small little One-shot I thought up while reading fanfiction between studying. No I haven't dropped my other story; it has been put on the back burner because exams are coming up for me.

**Pushed Too Far**

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"I demand you cease this foolishness!"

"I will not."

"Harry dear, please listen to us-"

"Why should I?" the second voice responded to the occupants in the Headmaster's Office.

"You foolish boy listen to your elders instead of-" a new voice spoke.

"Quiet _Snivellus_, don't test me, my patience is already at its end." hissed the second voice.

"Harry my boy; I cannot accept this.... this relationship you have with Miss Granger." said the first.

"You don't have to accept anything old man. You can simply gouge out your eyes if you do not want to see us together." replied Harry.

"HARRY JAMES POTT-"

"Quiet you, I am tired of your meddling go away and find someone else for that little slut behind you to dose with lust potions."

Ignoring the remark to her youngest, the Weasley matron continued, "But Harry dear, don't you see Ginny being a much better wife then... then that scarlet woman standing beside you?!"

Biting a snarl that threatened to escape his lips, his eyes briefly met Hermione's before returning to the crowd in front of them. "Why should I?" his voice a dangerous whisper as he repeated the age old question.

"I see I only began to comprehend the arrog-" Began Snape – then cut off as a pressure tightened around his throat. Almost everyone in the room stared in shock as the potions master struggled against the invisible force closing his airway before his frantic actions began to grow slugghish and his face turned a shade of deep blue.

"Harry stop this at once!" Dumbledore shouted.

Almost instantly, the pressure released from Snape's throat as he fell to his knees, deep shuddering breaths shaking his entire body as he gulped in air like water.

Dispassionate green eyes surveyed the people before him as his hand unconsciously took hold of Hermione's. His eyes locked onto the brown ones beside him for long moments as unspoken thoughts passed between the two. Light streamed slowly in from outside the window as grey storm clouds covered the skies, rumbling like Greek gods. A chill wind swept through the trees like a lover's caress as leaves rustled to their touch. An owl hooted into the dying sunlight, its sound echoing through the treetops as it was answered by creatures of the night.

Green eyes flickered momentarily to the people in front of them before returning to the brown orbs of his love. A subtle nod later from Hermione and in an instant everyone else in the room besides the two stiffened and rose ominously in the air.

Squawks and screams of anger erupted from many of those in the room as they felt their feet rise from the ground.

"Blasted Potter, what are you doing?!"

"Harry put us down this instant!"

"Mr. Potter, I demand you stop this now!"

"Bloody hell!"

"You know... all I ever wanted was to be left alone..." began Harry as he tapped a finger on his forehead where his scar lay.

"Your insolence knows no bounds Potter!" shrieked Snape as he hung suspended upside down in the air, his pale white, hairy legs blinding everyone in the room. Forcing his horrified eyes away from the things Snape calls his "legs", Harry's briefly met all the eyes in the room, judging them as he peered into their very souls.

"But, none of you could leave me alone could you?" continued Harry, "all I wanted was a quiet life with a wife and kids..."

"PUT US DOWN THIS INSTANT POT-" screamed Snape before his eyes bulged and his whole body began to shake violently as he levelled horizontally. Harry's eyes darted to look at Hermione for a brief moment as she calmly tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear like what happening before her was the most natural thing in the world. A large spray of brown fluid raced across the room as it exploded from the shaking professor's buttocks, splattering into a horrified Ron's as a large mouthful burst its way through his open mouth. Chunks of shit shoved their way down Ron's throat before his gag reflex kicked in and his jaw clamped shut with an audible click.

Unfortunately it did not help him much. Without any other opening to escape into, bits of the giant spray of shit forced its way into his nose, clogging his windpipe and turning his lungs into a cesspool. Unable to turn away due to the forces binding him, Ron's eyes bulged as his body contorted in agony for air as bile filled his body. Soon, brown fluids began leaking out of every orifice it could come out of, lines of shit dripped down from his eyes, ears, the corners of his mouth, pores began to open all over his body as the never ending stream of solid/liquid forced their way out of his body. His eyes eventually burst out of their sockets as his body became nothing more than a giant sponge, his mind slush and garbage as his brain was literally poisoned to death by the toxic blood. His chest burst open like a balloon, letting loose a sickening splatter of guts, gore and feces as his organs and crushed bones fell to the floor.

By now, the stream of feces erupting from Snape's bruised and battered anus had slowed down to a trickle. His body was nothing more than a shrivelled husk of human remains, every molecule of fluid in his body turned into feces by the same magic holding everyone. Its face, grimaced in unspeakable pain, faded to dust with the rest of its body when a fell breeze swept through the room, scattering the body into the wind.

The other occupants in the room only looked in horror at what happened to their comrades. A few even visibly shook as a chill crept up their spines.

"Harry please-" began Dumbledore hoping to stop any more bloodshed as he eyed the carcass of what use to be Ron Weasley. However he could only scream in pain as his tongue was forcibly ripped out from his mouth until his mouth clamped shut an audible click that broke a few teeth.

"But then... none of you could leave me be could you?" Harry continued as if nothing had happened. "You old man, forced me into a life of hate and solitude. You woman," he said pointing at Ms. Weasley, "wanted me as your little step-son, locked in a potion induced marriage to your whore of a daughter. Your son, pretend to be my 'friend' yet at every chance his jealousy rose to the cause. I always knew he was full of shit, ironic that it killed him don't you think?" a small chuckle escaped his lips before being cut off, "do you think that since only you three... sorry, you two are here now, but do you really think the rest of your family is safe from my anger."

Ms. Weasley face visibly paled as the thoughts finally homed in, her mouth attempted to open however she found her body unresponsive as it swayed to the machinations of a puppeteer. Her body turned to face her youngest offspring as the words she dreaded were whispered into her ear.

"Now watch, as the beginning of what will happen to the rest of your family. Starting with your little whore there, watch as you stand helpless by, unable to lift a finger or utter a single sound, as your _precious_ little Ginny is the first of your family to die by my hands." By now, streams of tears ran down Molly Weasley's face as the first of Ginny's screams echoed across the room.

It first began with her clothing as it was torn to shreds around her then her skin began to peel open, layer by layer, ripping from her body like a cat would shed its hair. Her nerves flared in pain, with each passing second the agony reaching higher and higher levels as she screamed her voice raw. When the last of her skin peeled away to show her moving muscles and sinews, every bone in her body began to snap constantly. Cracks and hollow snaps echoed across the now silent room as Ginny's face was grimaced into a plea of silent screams, her mind forcibly awake by the magic tearing at her body.

By the thousandth second all bones in her body were nothing more than shards of glass ripping into her body as it began to contort and fuse into one giant human ball. It first began with her arms and legs, boneless sinew retracting upon itself, making her seem like a drunk artist rendition of a child, then her head merged with her chest, frightened eyes swallowed up by the flesh around her. From within the mass, something began to force its way out, like a bread maker moulding dough, the mass of human tissue inwardly pushed out from its core to emerge a still beating heart. Rhythmically beating blood and oxygen back and forth from the still living brain by Harry's magic.

"You wished for your daughter to be something more...." began Harry as he raised his hand to what use to be Ginny, "well now she is."

Then with a single grasp of his hand the ball of Ginny ripped apart by the seams, splattering almost everyone with blood and human remains as Ginny's torture finally ended in a sickening display of gore and colours.

"Hmm what a nice dress you have their Ms. Weasley, la robe de Ginny. Quite interesting." Remarked Hermione as she eyed Ms. Weasley like a hawk would a stray mouse. At the corner of her eye, she met Harry's green gaze for a brief moment before turning her sights back on the Matron Weasley's shaking form. She raised her right arm before her eyes before grasping the air in front of her.

The unholy scream of unimaginable torture filled the air, its deafening tone shaking all the students in Hogwarts as they paused in their studies. Eyes filled with fear darted around to seek the source of the scream as they shivered in their seats.

Hermione calmly wiped her hands on a conjured piece of cloth as she surveyed her work. Malice and cruelty that surpassed even Harry's. Molly Weasley's end was a gruesome affair, having been burned to death by some demonic acid that melted flesh and inflamed the sense, her death was not quick by any means. In the end a puddle was left of the Matron Weasley as the pair focused their sights on the trembling Headmaster.

"Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore," intoned Harry as if reading from a book, "for many years I have looked up to you as a child would to their grandfather, then when you took me under your wing as a pupil my thoughts were elevated to the highest order, having believed I would learn things beyond my imagination." A slight pause, "Yet, as time grew past and we delved into the past of Voldemort, formerly called Tom Riddle, I started to connect the pieces, one by one. Why was it that the Headmaster of the most prestigious magic school in Britain not be attuned to the happenings of the school?" Harry asked rhetorically.

"The essence of one of the darkest wizards that had come in almost half a century resided in the body of the Defence of the Dark Arts teacher. Granted it had been ten years since the fall of that wizard and leniency can be granted for the lax of safety. Yet during my second year an artefact of pure darkness had entered the school and yet, Hogwarts herself gave no warning? Surely not, considering Hogwarts was imbued with the magics of its founders...

"But then why? I asked to myself. Why, could you not detect such an artefact entering your very sanctum? Your palace per say. And the only question I could come up with was; You _knew_. And did nothing. Did nothing to stop what could have possibly have been the biggest bloodshed that could have happened had the basilisk had entered the Great Hall during dinner. For more than fifty years, you knew what lurked in the Chamber of Secrets and did nothing, not one thing, to stop it.

"Then from there, I began to see the threads that you have manipulated. More and more I saw whispers of your tampering, echoes of your veiled words, shadows of your passing, everywhere I turned. They were there. At first I thought I had gone insane, seeing shadows that were supposedly not there. My mind began to play tricks you see; everywhere I turned I saw only webs and one way passages. In my fear, I delved into the arts that I knew you had no tampering in as of yet." He stopped dramatically, as if the air itself was going to finish the tale. His eyes darted around the office for a brief moment as if searching for something before giving up with a small shrug. His hand tightened momentarily around Hermione's as he glanced at her. Her hand tightened in response.

"Out of all the people who knew me," he said continuing the tale, "only one noticed the change. One person. And as she confronted me about it, I shared with her my findings. Of your manipulations, of the betrayal of my trust, all of it. And so together, we delved into the Dark Arts with renewed passion and together in those Arts, we found each other. Comforted each other during the nights and bonded during the days when all else turned their backs on us. But we didn't care, for we already knew their thoughts and fears.

"However there was one little problem that we had to take care of. One small problem. You. Oh yes, I knew of your little plan, and I knew that me being with Hermione threw a wrench into your clockwork plan. And I was all going with bygones be bygones, yet you could not let your little _weapon_ out of your grasp. Yet for all your machinations and clockwork precision, you could not see what we could do. You merely thought us as pawns, yet we were so much more, unlike the chess pieces you move at a whim, we had already broken free of the webs you weave and became the third party in this chess match.

"Oh do not worry, your death will _not_ be swift and kind, the deaths of your cohorts are going to seem like child's play for what we are going to do with you... Do not take comfort that since your body is old, it will give way before we will finish, oh no. For we," he said waving his hand between him and Hermione, "Will destroy you from the mind..."

The pain of his death was truly otherworldly; his mind having been simultaneously raped in more than a dozen horrific manners that left no visible scars, yet was as deep as a mountain gorge. Each 'death' so horrific that he would have sold his soul to the very devil to meet oblivion a child would to their mother. What was once praised as the greatest mind of the millennium was nothing more than a windowless prison from which Dumbledore found himself. He heard nothing, saw nothing, felt nothing but the pain of the magics that were ripping his very mind apart. Even time ceased to exist for him, Centuries? Years? Months? Weeks? Days? Or even mere minutes? If the last then his death was truly monstrous indeed, for even he didn't know when he finally passed on, so locked in his agony he was. And so, he entered the gates of Hell, passing the demons and imps, through the different levels of Hades, pass the screams of anguish and the cackles of insanity he finally stopped, never knowing when it would all stop.

Her eyes briefly glanced at the area that was where the 'greatest' wizard of the century used to be. Sniffing disdainfully at what she use to look up to, her eyes met the green stare of her lover. "So now that's left is Riddle correct?" she asked.

"Yes, him. Do you want to destroy him or shall I?"

"You can do it, after all you _are_ the Boy-Who-Lived." She said with a smile.

Chuckling at the age old joke, he held out his arm as a knight would to a maiden. "Then milady, shall we be off?"

Laughing out loud, she merely nodded as she took his arms in her own. "To Riddle, then the rest of the world."

"Yes, the _world_."

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A/N – Weee that took a bit more time than I thought it would. Now time for me to stop procrastinating and back to my original work! *rides off into the sunset*


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